holding out an olive branch beneath the autumn sky
by Watanabe Maya
Summary: They're exchanging Thank you's and See you on Monday's when Bokuto catches traces of the other's faint smile, an upward curve tugging on Akaashi's lips. (Bokuto doesn't think of kissing them, doesn't marvel at the idea of fate drawing their existences together – two brilliant stars on the verge of bittersweet collapse.) \\ BokuAka. Oneshot.


i wanted to play around with the idea of asexual!akaashi and an eager-but-hardworking!bokuto. Prompted by the idea of "I've liked you all this time but you don't but you're willing to give me a shot" of a couple dynamic.

big shoutout to afternoon rain for all her help and shared inspo this baby would not have been born without her i love u bae thank god for fujoshi beta bffs i said this before and i'll say it again _hal u da real mvp_

 **disclaimer:** i don't own haikyuu!

* * *

Bokuto Koutarou is not an idiot.

That being said, Bokuto Koutarou is most _definitely_ an idiot. With eyes wide open at two in the morning, trained on the ceiling, thoughts of black-haired setters flit through his mind.

(And no, mind you, they aren't of Kageyama Tobio.)

~ (= O v O =) ~

It starts with a note.

Bokuto begins the morning rushing to class. He's overslept yet again (probably because he's stayed up until very late the previous night and had only gotten about three hours worth of sleep thanks to that), internally panicking about the repercussions of his growing tardy record and the not-so-warm greeting he is sure to receive from his homeroom teacher. He's almost finished stripping off his outdoor loafers when he chances upon a sheet of paper tucked into his shoe closet, folded neatly and labelled in fine cursive writing.

 _To Koutarou-kun._

 _I think you're amazing and your cheerful smile always brightens up my day. Please meet me at the rooftop during lunch break._

- _Kobayashi Sumire_

A shuffle of footsteps alerts him of the time, and Bokuto turns around to see the familiar shades of ebony and saffron breezing through the corridors. He spots Konoha – or more like, Konoha spots him first – walking along the hallway with Akaashi in tow.

"Ohoho, _captain_ …it must be hard being so popular with the chicks," he comments. There's a smug smile plastered on his face like he knows he's just caught Bokuto in the middle of an act, and Bokuto just beams at him a toothy grin, refusing to give way to his jeering whims.

"What are you doing out here? Class started like twenty minutes ago."

"Coach called us to discuss some logistics issues for the practice match tomorrow," the wing spiker explains, "he was supposed to talk to you about it, but since you were busy dealing with your love letters instead of attending training, he called me up instead."

"Bokuto-san received a love letter?" comes the soft voice from behind him, and Konoha just stifles a laugh when Akaashi appends a solemn salutation at the end of it all. "Congratulations."

"Are you angry, Akaashi?" Konoha asks him.

"Not in the slightest. Why, should I be bothered?"

"Well, your precious _senpai_ is going to be whisked away from you by the lures of his newfound lady love…" Konoha croons and Bokuto whacks him a tad bit too hard on his shoulder to shut him up.

" _Hey hey hey_ I didn't say I was going to agree to dating her —"

"We're not forbidding you from dating, you know," Konoha reminds, wanting to prevent their captain from going into another one of his depressive moods. "You're free to go out with whom you wish, as long as it doesn't interfere with your performance in guiding the team."

"But that's exactly it. I need time for volleyball and I'm not gonna let myself be distracted by some girl; the goal is to make it to nationals and as your captain I'm not going to let you down! You're supposed to back me up here, Akaashi!"

At this, the second-year shakes his head and simply replies, as blasé as ever:

"Who you go out with is none of my business, Bokuto-san."

~ (= O v O =) ~

(He meets Kobayashi-san on the rooftop later during lunch, just as she had asked, rests a hand on her shoulder midway through her confession and says, "I'm flattered but I'm sorry I can't accept your feelings."

"But why is that?" she asks him, "I know we've just met but I'd like to get to know you better and—"

"No, it's just…"

"Is there someone else?" she questions and looks at him with her bright doe eyes and soft pouty lips. "Are you in love with someone else?"

Bokuto discovers that the concept of love is an ever-elusive one, finds himself staring and unable to come up with an answer.)

~ (= O v O =) ~

It's another late night again, Bokuto in his bed on the verge of insomnia, the memory of this afternoon flitting to and fro in his mind.

He thinks of Akaashi, with his wispy hair and half-lidded eyes, the curve of his nose, the colour of tan skin and flushed cheeks, warm and red and perhaps even inviting, the glow of exhaustion from the heavy demands of a late night practice all inexplicably vibrant and alive beneath a dampened black-and-gold jersey. He thinks of the tenor of his voice as it lilts ever so slightly, like a butterfly in the transient spring, tone raising just a tad pitch higher as he utters a soft _Bokuto-san_ before sending yet another practiced, calculated toss in his direction. He thinks of the slope of his neck, the gentle dip just along its nape, and his arm raises itself and draws in the air, muscle memory working its way vividly as he traces the boy's silhouette in the space between his hands and the fluorescent lights.

It's only until five hours later when Bokuto realizes, as his eyes weigh heavily with the desperate cry for sleep, that maybe - _just maybe_ \- this could possibly perhaps be love.

His alarm rings right then, and his heart chokes at the thought.

~ (= O v O =) ~

"You look terrible," Kuroo blurts out as he walks in through the gym doors for their practice match, and the words sound more of an accusation than a statement. "You're sick, aren't you?"

"No…" Feeble denial. A cocked eyebrow follows up on his act; Bokuto feigns ignorance. "What are you talking about?"

"Quit lying. It's obvious."

"I'm fine," he says, in a voice clipped and soft and clearly screaming that _no_ he definitely _isn't_ fine at all.

And Kuroo makes a very clear effort to point that out.

"No, you definitely aren't fine at all."

"Shut up," he snaps. Kuroo stares at him, eyes cold and tone deadpan.

"Your voice sounds like a lonely cat in mating season."

"It's..." Bokuto pauses. He mulls at the thought and hums in response, "puberty."

"What the fuck, Kou?" Kuroo blinks. "You're _eighteen_. That's past more than half of the adolesc—"

"Well I'm a late bloomer!" He croaks out, before commanding the others to hurry up for practice. Even his teammates cringe at the sound of his voice. Nekoma's captain just smirks before giving him a friendly pat on the back.

In the locker room, Bokuto dons his jersey and gives himself a quick look-over in the mirror. He notes the dark circles under his eyes and the thin sheen of sweat lining his brow, but otherwise, he was fine. Kuroo was exaggerating, as he was always prone to do, and Bokuto is grateful to the gods that at least he didn't look as bad as he felt.

He walks to the court and joins the team for warm-ups, stretching himself and arching his back, muscles easing from the built-up tension. Later, Yamiji-sensei calls on them and instructs them to jog five rounds before they begin with the game, much to Bokuto's dismay.

"Lead the way, cap!" Komi beams, and the taller third year forces out a smile and does what he is told.

They walk outside into the cool autumn air, Sarukui taunting Konoha with a loud _last one to the finish line's a rotten egg_ and Konoha returning the favour with an even louder _coach made us do laps stupid there is no finish line to begin with_ but still running faster in an attempt to race him anyway.

"Save some of your energy for the match, guys," Washio reminds, and Bokuto flashes him a thumbs up in approval for his advice.

Seven minutes later, and only halfway through his second lap, the young wing spiker finds himself struggling to keep up to pace with a familiar mop of black hair, panting hard and quickly running out of steam. The sound of his shoes hitting the gravel a repetitive rhythm calling him to sleep as it decrescendos to near silence and slows, now a laboured ritardando.

Bokuto's seeing stars at this point or maybe he's just seeing Akaashi because Akaashi has always been his star and he doesn't know if this is vague poeticism on his part or if he's just driven himself really really ill.

But when his face meets the ground and his lips kiss nothing but the cold gravel of the sidewalk, Bokuto is pretty sure that it's the latter.

~ (= O v O =) ~

It all starts blending together at some point, memories blurring to champagne fantasies and watered down dreams, languid colors bleeding from one shade to the next. When Bokuto wakes up, roughly an hour and twenty minutes later, he finds himself relishing in the repetitive cadence of Akaashi's hand carding through his hair.

"Hey," he says. "Hey, Akaashi."

"Hey yourself," the young setter answers, voice calm and quiet. "How are you feeling, Bokuto-san?"

"I…" he blinks, mind fogged, feelings all warm and hazy, "uh…what…what happened?"

"You passed out during practice," he explains, fingers caught in his hair as his left hand pauses in its motions. "Onaga-san had to carry you to the nurse's office, but since there's no nurse on Saturdays, they asked me to stay behind to look after you. You should be ashamed, captain, for making your _kouhais_ go through so much trouble to look after their _senpai_ ," he adds, tone light and a tad bit teasing.

"Oh," he mumbles. "I just haven't been sleeping well lately is all. Please tell Onaga I said thank you and that I'm sorry for the trouble. How'd the match go anyway?"

"They put in a first year trainee as my substitute setter while Konoha-senpai filled in your spot. We still won by the way, but only by a two-point lead." Akaashi sits up straighter on the watch chair, hands cool and soothing as it brushes past his locks.

"Sounds tough," he remarks, "oh man, I'm really sorry I couldn't make it but I never once doubted you guys could pull through. Good job to the team."

"It's all right, Bokuto-san, we understand that your health comes first," Akaashi replies. "Speaking of, you're still quite warm…you should rest a bit. Kuroo-san offered to come over and pick you up in a while, it won't be long."

"Yeah yeah…" the captain sighs, pulling the blankets and smiling weakly. "Thanks a bunch, Akaashi."

The younger boy stirs in his seat, leaning closer as he returns the gesture with a soft, warm smile. "You're welcome as always, Bokuto-san. Now please, get some sleep – you need it."

"Mm," he hums as he rests his eyes, the feeling of Akaashi's hand the last thing registering in his mind before he bids farewell to the view of the alabaster sky.

Of all the things Bokuto loves about Akaashi, his favourite would most probably be his hands.

~ (= O v O =) ~

Later, when Kuroo drops by the clinic to fetch him – as promised – Bokuto is woken by hushed tones and sombre voices.

"Thanks, dude. Your stuff's with Yaku so you can go now, Akaashi; I'll take over from here."

"Alright. Thank you as well, Kuroo-san. Kenma-san," the second year bows and the shuffle of footsteps informs Bokuto of his departure.

With Akaashi out of sight and Bokuto now in the solitary presence of the Nekoma duo, Kuroo takes it upon himself to give an earful of _reminders_ that he thinks the owl deserves.

"Told you you were sick…did you really think you could beat us in your condition, Kou?" The spiky-haired captain hollers, voice shrill with concern, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Kenma snorts derisively, looking up from his console and averting his eyes. "That's the thing, Kuroo. I don't think he was."

"Sorry," he rasps.

Kuroo's voice softens with pity. "Really though, Kou, what's the matter? You could tell me you know; I'm your best bro after all. And Kenma won't tell a soul either, right Kenma?"

The smaller boy nods quietly in response. "You can trust us," he says, soft and encouraging.

"It's…uh—"

"It's about Akaashi, isn't it?" Kuroo manages to pick up, ever keen and oh so clever.

"Do you have feelings for Akaashi-san?" Kenma adds, perhaps or perhaps not so helpfully. Bokuto winces; caught red-handed.

"Dude, just fuckin' go for it," his best friend advises. "Pull out all the stops, use all those cheesy pick up lines you deliver whenever you're drunk on Saturday nights — n _o drinks tonight for you, by the way, you need your rest_ — buy him flowers and things he likes, fuckin' flex in front of him for god's sake or whatever the fuck you wanna do, mate. It ain't gonna hurt anyone to try to get him to notice you. You're pretty close to begin with, anyway."

"Kenma?" Bokuto whimpers, voice hoarse and in search of support. "What do you—"

"Kuroo has a point," he answers, almost sagely, and they leave it at that.

~ (= O v O =) ~

Come Sunday, the grey-haired wing spiker – now well rested – starts the day with a bright smile and an agenda on his hands. And like most things involving the existence of Bokuto Koutarou, this agenda naturally starts with a bang.

There's a ring of the doorbell and a knock on the door, and Akaashi opens it with a bleary-eyed _hello who is it_ only to be greeted by wide owl eyes and an overly exuberant _good morning, Akaashi!_ from its glove-clad owner at exactly 9:42 in the morning.

"I've already told you many times before that we do not need a real-life mascot to manifest our school spirit, Bokuto-san. Your hard work during tournaments is enough…so please tell me why exactly do you insist on having a white-faced owl perched on your hand as you stand on my doorstep?"

"Akaashi! It's not just any white-faced owl, but a _southern_ white-faced owl!" he bellows with enthusiasm. Akaashi narrows his eyes and notes the uncanny resemblance between bird and boy. "Isn't she neat? She's a _Ptilopsis granti_ and she hasn't gotten a name yet so you can choose her name yourself but I got her for you to, you know, say thanks for looking after me and all yesterday. Oh! And she's from Botswana, isn't that cool?"

"Bokuto-san," he sighs, mildly exasperated. It's way too early for this shit. "While I appreciate the thought, I regret to inform you that my mother is allergic to feathers…she cannot handle me keeping a bird for a pet."

The owl puffs its chest in indignation, almost having sensed her being rejected. Bokuto hands her a treat in consolation.

"Well then," Bokuto says as he brings two fingers to his lips and blows on his makeshift whistle, "how about this li'l fella?"

Right on cue, an Australian Shepherd jumps out of the bushes and plops itself onto his porch. The puppy is clad in a small Fukurodani vest with #4 scrawled in marker, props to the captain, wagging its tail eagerly in anticipation. It vaguely resembles Bokuto as well, not as much as Ms. Botswana of course, but it's black and white with furry ears and eyes dotted with flecks of brown.

Now Akaashi should really be more surprised by this, but this is Bokuto we're talking about, so really this comes as no surprise at all.

"She's allergic to dogs too…basically all animals in general," he says sadly, wincing. _A shame_ , Akaashi thinks, _such a cute dog too._ He bends down to nuzzle the puppy behind its ears. "Sorry, Bokuto-san…shall I walk you back to the pet store to return them together?"

~ (= O v O =) ~

Following the train wreck of the previous incident, Bokuto takes it upon himself to continue on with smaller things.

He offers to help Akaashi carry his training bag to practice, pops up to check on the second year in his classroom every now and then to the point that he's made a few close friends among the younger batch, gets him food out of nowhere (" _Personal delivery service for Akaashi Keiji! Just being a good senpai ya know, I figured you might've been hungry so here's an onigiri!"_ ), buying him a new pair of wristbands he knew the other had been eyeing for a while, and the like.

Once, he dropped by Akaashi's classroom asking the second-year to help him practice for his orals. After obtaining his approval, the first thing Bokuto had done was to deliver, in terribly pronounced English, a lame pick-up line he shamelessly nabbed off the internet: " _Are you from Tennessee? 'Cause you're the only ten I see!"_ and as Akaashi squirmed and attempted to walk away, Bokuto panicked to run after him, bellowing, "Wait no, ah! Akaashi, I really do need help with English! ' _Kore wa pen desu'_ means ' _this is a pen'_ … Please practice with me, I'll say ' _How do you do?_ ' and you'll go ' _It is nice to meet you_ ' and then I think I should say ' _My hobbies is_ —'" and only then did the brunette grudgingly walk back with a peeved, "My hobbies ' _are_ ,' Bokuto-san. Remember your subject-verb agreement rules… ' _hobbies'_ is a plural noun so you match it up with ' _are'_ instead because ' _is'_ is a singular verb."

There are nice moments, when Bokuto thinks that there is a chance his feelings could be reciprocated soon enough, like when he used up the last of his allowance to buy Akaashi a drink from the vending machine in the middle of practice. By the time he returned to the gym lugging a single bottle of _Aquarius,_ which he promptly handed to Akaashi, the older boy had shrugged off the other's questioning glance with a _Nah, I'm not that thirsty._ The young setter squinted his eyes, took a sip from his bottle and thrust it back in his direction, muttering a not-so-soft _Bokuto-san you liar_ while offering him his drink to share.

Then there are bad moments, when Akaashi finds him unprepared or in the middle of executing a poorly-timed act, like the time he tried to pull off the same thing as that Sumire girl and put a note ( _To Akaashi,_ it read, _I think you're amazing and your calm smile always brightens up my day. Please meet me at the rooftop during lunch break. – Bokuto._ He claims it's purely original and heartfelt.) in Akaashi's shoe locker before heading to morning practice. Akaashi catches him right in the act, pursing his lips and clearing his throat loudly before announcing, " _Bokuto-san, if you wanted to talk to me, you could have just done so during practice."_

(At this, Bokuto still drags him up to the rooftop during lunchtime anyway, where he has prepared a surprise of ranunculus flowers and a guitar ready for the serenade. He even hires Kaori and Yukie, the latter whom he promised to pay his debts to by threefold, to serve as his back-up singers as he not-so-professionally belts out the chorus of _Can't Take My Eyes Off You._ )

The final straw is when Akaashi walks into the gym unsuspectingly, courtesy of Onaga who dropped by the second year's classroom during study hall, mumbling _I was told to give this to you,_ _Akaashi-senpai,_ as he handed him a note. Bokuto greets him as he approaches the court, and when Akaashi loudly wonders about the presence of the team for the so-called 'team meeting,' the boys take this as their cue to burst out running from the locker room, circling around setter and ace as Washio, Sarukui, Konoha, and Komi lined themselves up in formation. Shirts are ripped and buttons are undone and all of Fukurodani reveals itself in thick pentel pen hiragana, characters spelling out A-Ka-A-Shi on the bare skin of their chests.

"When I imagined you all sweaty and panting and having me all over you, this was _not_ what I had in mind," Akaashi admits, smirking. The team mirrors expressions of shame on their faces, though their stances stand tall and proud, and Bokuto better be grateful he was captain and a loved one at that, for these boys to willingly submit themselves to such ideas like these—

" _C'mon, cap! Do it for the hundred yen!"_

" _Hurry up, captain; I need to go the bathroom!"_

" _For the love of yakitori Bokuto, my man, go on. You can do it!"_

" _You owe me big bucks for this. Bro, just say it already!"_

— or that he had a fair enough financial status to support the funding for all his outrageous whims.

(It can be endearing, the boy guesses, in a somewhat dysfunctionally sweet kind of way.)

When the gig is up and Bokuto is done taking his sweet precious time in an attempt to 'build the momentum' with the abundance of dramatic pauses and flashy shows of his signature puppy-dog-eyes, he utters, "Akaashi…. will…you…please…will you—"

"Bokuto-san, spit it out. I have to go back to class soon."

"Will you," the older boy – still unfazed – goes down on one knee and whips out a handful of coupons, "please go to McDonalds with me?"

~ (= O v O =) ~

It's after two cheeseburgers and a _matcha_ McFlurry that the pair decide to call it a day – Bokuto head over heels and spluttering through his words every so often; Akaashi quiet and composed and overcome with relief that the day managed to end without incident. They're exchanging their _thank you's_ and _I'll see you on Monday's_ when Bokuto stumbles on the sidewalk, heart caught in a daze as he catches traces of the other's faint smile, an upward curve tugging on bowed lips.

(Bokuto doesn't think of kissing them, doesn't wonder how it would feel to taste the warmth of his mouth or trace the moonlight on his shoulders, doesn't marvel at the idea of fate drawing their existences together – two brilliant stars on the verge of bittersweet collapse.)

"If you keep tripping over yourself like that, you'll land a concussion at this rate, Bokuto-san. Let me walk you to the station at the very least," the young setter offers, half-joking and half-concerned. Bokuto doesn't look exactly a hundred percent steady on his feet yet and Akaashi worries if perhaps he is on the verge of a relapse, his recent outbursts of energy driving the ace to the point of exhaustion and sickness. He reaches out his hand.

Bokuto's pulse thrums loudly, giddy with excitement at the thought of the proposition. He takes it with a smile.

"I like you," he says.

"I know," Akaashi replies coolly as they make their way towards the terminal, past the turnstiles and beyond the baffle gates. "You've made it very clear during these past few days, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto frowns, letting go. "And you don't like me back."

"Not in that way, yes…" the younger boy nods; his voice sounds tinny amidst the hustle and bustle of the station crowds, faint against the echoes of _the train is now arriving, all passengers for the Chuo line heading to Ochanomizu, Suidobashi, Ichigaya, and Yoyogi please wait behind the yellow line_ announced over the speakers _._ Akaashi's fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt and he coughs softly, nervously, and clears his throat.

"Though it's also more than just that, I… I think you deserve an explanation. I know this may come across as a terribly sounding cliché but it's not you, it's me. I can't find myself being particularly attracted to anyone, really. I'm truly sorry, Bokuto-san, that it is difficult for me to reciprocate your emotions and fall in love with you right now but—"

" _Oh_ ," Bokuto says softly, voice torn between surprised and dejected. "I didn't know you felt that way… I guess I was just being stupid as usual having wished for what's practically impossible when you can't ever like me back but—"

"But I could try," Akaashi finishes for him, "if you'd let me."

The taller boy holds in a breath. Clearly this was not the answer he was expecting.

"But you...wait… _what_ …I can't – okay, sorry. It must seem like I'm just forcing all my feelings onto you then. You don't have to force yourself, Akaashi. I get it… it's just that I really do like you, you know, but that doesn't mean you have to go about pushing yourself to try and like me back just so you can make me happy or something because you don't have to if that's not really in your nature it's more important to be true to yourself and I respect you for who you are as a person so it's okay—"

He is rambling again, as Akaashi has known him to often do, and the black-haired setter holds back a smile. It isn't hard to picture himself to be in love with this boy perhaps one day, someday, in their far-off futures. He imagines ice cream dates and movie nights, picnics at the park and early morning conversations. He thinks of action-packed anniversaries and long hugs and kisses sneaked in between the school corridor.

There is no heart-throbbing beat in his chest, his pulse is still a dull and steady cadence at best, but there's a warmth that replaces it and for Akaashi it is enough. It's a hopeful kind of feeling, pleasant and reassuring. It tells him that it will be okay, that they will be okay, that it is worth the chance and risk and effort, to try his best and grow to love this golden child bright and beaming before his eyes.

(But these kinds of things take time – they both know – and Akaashi, most especially when it comes to Bokuto's case, is nothing if _not_ unyielding patience.)

(He's not hard to fall in love with, really.)

"Bokuto-san," he says right then and there, promptly shutting the boy up as he takes his hand and brings it to his lips. 'I would like to."

* * *

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this shameless self-indulgent fic of mine hehehe please leave a review and have a nice day :)

*In the language of flowers, a bouquet of ranunculus says "I am dazzled by your charm."


End file.
